Saturday, May 23, 2009

So I'm back. 22 hours of babysitting and I live to tell the tale; which is probably not all that surprising but what you WILL find surprising is The Child is also alive and good health.

(Smiles even. What a soldier.)

Unfortunately, there was one who could not endure.

It's my fault really, I was hard. Demanding Even. Required too much attention, too much support, pushing the limits. I took it for granted, not realizing that we were a team.

Give and Take both ways....like

Peanut Butter & Jelly.

Milk & Cookies.

Lionel & his blankey.

We needed each other but I did not fulfill* (*seriously, I tried like 13 different ways to spell that damn word!) (Thank you spellcheck. Kisses!) my end of the bargain and my partner took the fall.

Not literallythank God,

jeez, I'm not that negligent!

It was more of a mental breakdown, if you will.

I wasn't worried at first.

I can fix this! No problem.

I was confident.

Maybe too confident.

An hour later the panic set in. I tried everything.

Scapula? Check.

Go-Go-Gadget Hat? Check.

Ibufrofen? Check.

Big Gulp of Caffeinated Coffee?

Check.

& Checkmate.

WOO!!

...but the damage had been done. I would have to complete my duty flying solo. I ain't gonna lie, a tear was shed for my fallen soldier. (The previous statement is, in fact, a lie.) The remaining hours ticked by slowly...I tried to take my mind off the pain but it was all I could think about.

I didn't even foresee it coming! Had I missed The Signs? Were there signs?

But it was too late. The damage: done.

All I could do was sit. And wait.

...tick-tock, tick tock....

(And eye the bottle of Champagne calling my name.)

(but this was no time to celebrate.

This was a time of grief. Of mourning.)

...And waited some more....

no more "tocks" just ticks!...

(What's up with "babysit Friday night" actually being "babysit Friday night, most of Saturday and adding 2 more kiddies in the mix in the afternoon"?)

...and GROWLS.

(for the record: The little people were perfect angels =)

When I got home I immediately began intensive surgery. For a while I thought it was no use, it was *gulp* over but I persisted, desperation fueling me and

VOILA!!!

WHOMP!! THERE IT IS!!

My iPhone lives!

No more tears =)

SHAKALAKA! SHAKALAKA!

(stop snickering iPhone Haters! The iPhone is still THE BEST!)

(And I think it's a sign from the Apple Gods that I neeeed to get the newest iPhone when it comes out.)

Who knew we keep coffee in the FRIDGE. The FRIDGE?! Hello, it's in the cupboard on the Foldgerscommercials!

(Heh, heh, I knew it too... The Fridge, duh. First place I looked...silly Foldgers trying to pull the wool over our sleepy eyes, you didn't fool me for a second.)

And there's like all kinds of parts and stuff once you open the little lid thingy. A world of gizmos & gadgetstaunt you like little Circus Monkeys.

Frame. Filtration Disk. Disk Cover. Basket. Pots. Filters. (Oh my!)

All those crypticnumbers on the pot. (WTF?)

What do they mean?! I cried, shaking my fists at the ceiling sky.

The Coffee Can gives me measurements by OUNCES and TABLESPOONS. So then there's conversions....WHAT?!

What is thisRocket Science?!

COFFEE is all I ask of you!!

Not travel to infinity and beyond(!) and Twitter me updates, pictures and answering the age old question of Is there life on other planetsWhat Are You Doing Right Now? (I'm pretty sure even astronauts are using Twitter these days.)

Coffee!! I just NEED some Coffee!

I NEEEED IT!

GimmeGimmeGimme!

*ahem*

And then there was my iPhone, like a Knight in Shining Armor (that practically screams, for I shall rescue thou) (or "slide to unlock") galloping in on a white horseStallion (named Google. Very Stallion-like, yes?) coming to rescue me in my helpless Coffee-lessdespair from the VICIOUS FIRE-BREATHING Dragon (Let's call this evil monster Mr. Coffee, shall we?).

After my iPhoneKnight In Shining Armor battled Mr. Coffee, it turned out that Mr. Coffee was not so evil or dragon-like after-all, just misunderstood, like so many of us. (I think it was ICan'tFigureThisShitOut Syndrome) (Yes, that's the techjnical medical term for it)

He was more of a toad once you got to know him. A toad that turned into the Prince of Caffe-Merica.

Now understood, the Prince then dropped the "Mr." and unflattering Circus Monkey/Rocket Scientist/Dragon routine and is now totally down-to-Earth "Regular Joe" kind of guy who goes by Joe Coffee (or Cup-Of-Joe if you're into pet names)

About Me

I'm random, sarcastic, "eccentric", dorky in an endearing way, (or at least that's what I tell myself) and a smart ass to boot.
Any questions or comments or just about anything (y'know the good, the bad, the ugly...) can be e-mailed to me at lostinthought@me.com. I'd love to hear from ya!